Return To Bree
by Blanton Cirith
Summary: --Slash-- Terror and murder strikes Bree, and Legolas and Aragorn are caught in the middle. (Chapter 5, a thousand apologies for the long delay)
1. The Common Room

Return To Bree   
  
Author: Blanton Cirith  
  
Chapter 1~  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, however much i may want to. They are the property of his majesty, JRR Tolkien.  
  
  
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"Aragorn, wait!" Legolas said as he caught up to his companion. The two were traveling through an area on the outskirts of Bree hunting orcs that had not perished when the War of the Ring had been won. The orcs posed no major threat to them, but needed to be hunted down before they did any deal of damage. There had been reports that small bands of orcs had been seen near the area lately causing mischief.  
  
Aragorn waved his hand at the elf to silence him. "I thought I heard something," Aragorn said quietly.  
  
They both halted and listened intently. There was a small snort about ten meters away, and they could see an orc resting on a log by the creek. Aragorn reached for his sword, but Legolas put his hand on the Ranger's shoulder.  
  
"I have this one," he said with a grin.  
  
Legolas reached back for an arrow from his quiver and strung it to his bow. Bending down on one knee, he aimed slowly and carefully. He raised his chin to measure the distance, and released it with a slight jolt. His arrow soared toward the creature, and penetrated it's foul neck. Black blood trailed down its mail coat before it fell to the ground, dead.  
  
"You will not beat your record at Helm's Deep, but I dare say that was a good shot," Aragorn said, smiling.  
  
"No applause necessary,"Legolas replied sarcastically. Aragorn always relished the elf's smile. It was so pure, so innocent. Soft laughter sounded from the Prince's lips; those lips that Aragorn so wished to caress with his own. But then an image of Arwen appeared in his mind, and he brushed the previous thought of Thranduil's son aside.  
  
Turning around to face Aragorn, Legolas saw two orcs creeping up behind his companion, holding their orc blades high, ready to strike him.  
  
"Aragorn!" Legolas shouted, and reached for another arrow. He strung it, and shot one of the assailants. Aragorn unsheathed Anduril, and turned swiftly. He thrust it into the orc's chest and removed it almost immediately only to sever the fell creature's head with another strike.  
  
Legolas let out a sigh of relief. "What would you do without your sword."  
  
"I like my sword," Aragorn replied with a grin, watching the sun's final rays reflect off the thick silver of Anduril.  
  
There were merry-sounding voices coming from some ways behind them, where trees parted and the town of Bree took over. They both made their way to the forest's threshold and crouched down beneath the shadow of a tall oak. They watched as three middle-aged halflings were stumbling out of The Prancing Pony, bottle in hand.  
  
"I have a grand idea, if I may say so," Aragorn said, and looked over to his companion to find the elf's face only inches from his own. Legolas turned his head and was taken aback by such proximity to the Ranger, but dared not move, the closeness sending a chill of anxiety down his spine. Aragorn could feel the elf's breath on his neck and discovered he rather liked the sensation it gave him. Suddenly coming back to reality, he stood quickly and cursed himself for thinking such things of Legolas; his friend; his close companion. Nothing more.   
  
'What is happening to me?' he thought to himself as he realized Arwen was no longer the only being who stirred his heart. Unwilling to accept such accusations, he lightly shook his head.  
  
"Keep me in suspense no longer," came the soft, enticing voice of the elf below him.  
  
Aragorn looked down at him, apparently having forgotten their conversation, being drowned in his own thoughts. "Hmm?" was the only sound he managed to utter.  
  
"Your idea?" Legolas reminded him with a confused look.  
  
"Oh.." he replied with a light chuckle. "I thought it best if we reside at the Prancing Pony tonight, and tomorrow we take up the hunt once more. I'm sure you haven't eaten for a day and a half, and neither have I."  
  
"Now that is a grand idea," Legolas replied, smiling.  
  
Aragorn couldn't help but melt at the sight of that careless, joyful smile. 'Such innocence...' the Ranger mused. 'How I would enjoy taking that innocence from him.' At this, Aragorn flinched, mentally kicking himself for such a comment. 'Legolas is a good friend. If he knew I harbored such thoughts of him, he would never speak to me again! No, this is unacceptable of me.'  
  
Walking past the first orc they'd slain, Legolas intentionally stepped on him.  
  
"Oh, did I step on your head?" Legolas said, acting surprised. "I'm terribly sorry. You are just so ugly, I thought you were only my imagination."  
  
The two couldn't help but erupt in mirthful laughter, something neither had had the privilege of experiencing since they left Gondor.  
  
  
  
  
Entering the Prancing Pony, Barliman Butterbur immediately saw them, and cleared his throat.  
  
"All hail your King, Strider...er...I mean...what's your name again?" He inquired nervously. After the hobbits had told him upon their return to the Shire that this Strider fellow was indeed the King, Barliman wished to make up for his terrible misjudgment.  
  
"Aragorn," the Ranger told him.  
  
"Son of...?" Barliman questioned again.  
  
"Arathorn."  
  
"Thank you," he whispered, then continued with what he had tried to say before in a louder voice. "Aragorn, son of Arathorn!" There was grating applause mixed with loud cheering. The men thought it a joke and went along with Butturbur's "antics," indulging in the night's merriment.  
  
"What will it be, my liege?" the bartender asked with a light bow, ignoring the other men.  
  
"My usual," he replied.  
  
"So you came here often?" Legolas asked him, curious at the term 'my usual'.  
  
"This is where I used to meet my contacts before my time with the Fellowship," Aragorn said. "Barliman!"  
  
The short and portly man peered over his shoulder at the two companions. Aragorn placed his hand on the Elf's shoulder and faced the bartender. "This is Legolas, a friend of Men. I wish for you to treat him with the same respect as you do toward me."  
  
Butterbur turned around fully, this time holding two rather large mugs of his best ale and laid them to rest in front of the companions. Once having his hands free of the burden, he waved at Legolas. "I'm honored to make your aquaintence, Le....er... forgive me, I'm not well with names."  
  
"Legolas," the elf said kindly, leaning forward so the somewhat old man could better hear him. He smiled out of etiquette, and settled down in a rather old and creaking chair by Aragorn to thankfully consume his ale. The taste was bitter, much bitter than what he was used to, but after a few gulps he found himself enjoying it.  
  
"To friendship," Aragorn said, holding up his glass.  
  
"To friendship," Legolas replied, doing the same.  
  
  
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	2. The Unexpected

Return To Bree   
  
Authors: Blanton Cirith & MarieAmethyst  
  
Chapter 2~  
  
Disclaimer: see chapter 1  
  
SideNote: MarieAmethyst and I decided to make this a joint project. Why? Because MarieAmethyst is the all mighty slash writer! *grovels* She took care of most of the slash parts in this fic, which I am extremely thankful for!  
  
  
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Barliman led Legolas and Aragorn to their room which was on the second floor above the common-room. Walking down the hall, they passed three doors, and finally came to theirs. It was at the end of the hall, the door being taller than the rest on the floor.  
  
"This is a much larger room than the rest, speaking in height, ofcourse. Since Strider here is extremely tall to my reckoning, and the Elf isn't far behind, I figured I'd give you two the tall room. Call if you need anything, and hopefully Nob will scurry in as he usually does. Now I must be off. As you saw earlier, I have quite a crowd tonight."  
  
"Thank you Butterbur," Legolas said.  
  
"It will do just fine," Aragorn added.  
  
Barliman scuttled back down the hall, and down to the bar. Aragorn turned the knob, and opened the door. There were two beds and a small table surrounded by three chairs near a brightly burning fireplace. Legolas rested on one of the bed with his back to the wall and Aragorn took a seat in one the chairs by the table.  
  
"How many more orcs do you think are still in Bree?" Legolas asked.  
  
"I am not sure at this point. The question is: Why Bree? There's nothing here of half-descent value except Barliman's ale," Aragorn said with a laugh.  
  
"That is what puzzles me as well. Bree is a small, irrelevant town. I see not a value in attacking it," Legolas said.  
  
"Unless they wanted to draw attention away from some other place they have in mind," Aragorn stated in deep thought.  
  
"Possibly," Legolas said, nodding. "But for now, all we can do is slay as many as we can find."  
  
Aragorn nodded, still in deep thought. He stared into the fire and spoke again. "I just wish I knew what their objectives were. These attacks are perplexing; and I despise riddles." Aragorn sighed, and didn't notice that Legolas had moved behind him until he felt arms encircle his waist. A pair of warm lips caressed his ear, and Aragorn let his head fall back. Taking the hint, Legolas brushed his lips along the expanse of Aragorn's neck.  
  
Suddenly, Legolas stopped and stepped back. Confused, Aragorn looked back at him.  
  
"I'm sorry. Things have been quite tense lately. I don't know what came over me," Legolas said, and turned away from him, looking out the window.  
  
Aragorn stood and walked toward him, putting his hand on Legolas' shoulder. "No, it's understandable... we both have been under a lot of stress lately." He paused for a moment, and then continued. "You could help me relieve the stress, Legolas."  
  
'What am I saying?' Aragorn thought angrily. But he didn't care anymore. Everything faded away in his mind except for one thing: Legolas, standing there adorned by the moonlight through the window. The image burned in his heart, but what burned even more was a desire... one that Aragorn could not understand, but felt it was worth pursuing.  
  
Legolas looked away from the window to face him, and saw he had a burning look in his eyes. Grinning, he accepted the invite, pouncing on the taller man with a strength his slender body concealed.Together they fell back to the floor, Legolas' grinning face framed by his long blond hair as he stared down in triumph. "As you wish, my lord."  
  
But instead of kissing him as Aragorn expected, he found that his elf friend knew exactly where he was ticklish. Within moments he was writhing beneath him with laughter, trying to escape the nimble fingers torturing him. Legolas continued for another minute before being satisfied that Aragorn was properly 'relieved' of stress. He listened as the man under him panted for breath, his lean face flushed slightly. His gaze rested on his  
friend's parted lips.   
  
Aragorn fought for breath after Legolas' unexpected attack. He hadn't been tickled since he was a young and less mature, but found he did not mind-as long as he could repay in full. Preparing to spring his own attack on the elf, he noticed a strange gleam in his luminous green eyes. Before he could ask what was wrong, firm lips had captured his in a kiss that left him mindless of anything else but the other's presence.   
  
He hadn't paid much attention to their position before, but suddenly he was acutely aware of Legolas straddling his hips, of their hearts beating against the other's chest, of the hands that rested gently on his own chest. Now it all came to him in a rush of powerful feelings that left him robbed of breath as Legolas continued to caress his lips with his own.  
  
  
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	3. Slay and Burn

Return To Bree   
  
Authors: Blanton Cirith & MarieAmethyst (all mighty slash writer *grovels*)  
  
Chapter 3~  
  
Disclaimer: BTW, I own Verence too.But everything else is property o' Tolkien.  
  
  
  
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Legolas and Aragorn's emotions were racing, and they weren't sure what would happen next.   
  
But in a moment, there was a piercing scream right outside. Single, red droplets of blood splattered against their window. Legolas scrambled to his feet, and Aragorn did the same. For a moment, they just stared at the dark red liquid speckling the window. Snapping back to reality, they wasted no time. Dashing toward the door, Aragorn opened it and they both ran down the hall, their capes sailing behind them. Ramming his hand into the wall so he could turn, Aragorn flew down the spiral stair with Legolas close behind. Reaching the Common Room, they saw Barliman and other hobbits were frightened and looking around terrified, but the two hunters paid no heed to them. Aragorn dashed around the tables, racing for the door, and Legolas jumped over the bar and onto a large, round table. Leaping off, he reached the door.   
  
Reaching the outdoors, they raced toward where their window was and stopped about a meter away from the person who had screamed. Instead of finding a slightly injured and frightened being, they found the maimed body of a dead Bree citizen. Slowly, Aragorn moved to the hobbit's side and knelt down beside him. His body was gashed and mutilated, and his blood covered the grass beside him, turning the ground a dark red. Aragorn turned the hobbit's head with his gentle hand. The hobbit's right cheek had the letters "UH" carved into the skin by a harsh blade. Fresh blood still trickled from the gash.  
  
Legolas stepped closer, and knelt down on the other side of the corpse. There was a long, piercing silence; neither dared to speak.  
  
"What do you believe it stands for?" Aragorn whispered solemnly, not having the will to speak any louder.  
  
"Who ever did this, most likely. But the only beings I can manage to think of that are this cruel and brutal would be orcs," Legolas said in a low tone.  
  
"So, the question is: was this the work of orcs, or someone else..." Aragorn trailed off and became quiet.  
  
"Who else could there be?" Legolas said, and dread was in his voice.  
  
"That is yet another question which I have no answer for as of yet; nor do you, I presume," he said, still with sorrow in his voice that he could not save the person from this undeserving fate.  
  
There was a snap of a twig, and Legolas took his dagger in hand. Aragorn quickly removed Anduril from his belt. Barliman appeared from behind the corner of the Prancing Pony, holding a large club.  
  
"It's just you," Legolas said, relieved, and they both sheathed their weapons. Barliman came toward them quickly, happy that the danger had passed. As he neared the two by the corpse, Barliman dropped the club in horror.  
  
"Nob!" Barliman cried. He came over to them quickly and kneeled beside the dead hobbit. He began to weep softly. After a few moments, he spoke to them.  
  
"I treated him so poorly. But deep inside, I loved him as my own son," he managed through his anguish.  
  
Legolas and Aragorn bowed their heads, and felt pity for Butturbur who mourned for his lost friend.  
  
"Find who did this, Strider," Butturbur said in a low tone, not shifting his glance from the corpse lying in front of him. "Find who is responsible."  
  
Legolas put a hand on Barliman's shoulder in comfort. "We will..." he whispered.  
  
Aragorn looked near Nob's body, and there were footprints leading away toward the wood. They were that of about three or four large, heavy creatures. They wore no shoes or boots, and had several claws on each foot. Legolas saw it as well, and was relieved that no Elf, Man, Dwarf, or Hobbit was responsible.  
  
Another hobbit that worked at the Prancing Pony, Verence, had come with a pitchfork, and was astonished when he saw Nob's mutilated form by them. Barliman had heard him walk up behind him, and spoke.  
  
"Verence, get these two people provisions."  
  
Verence nodded, and hurried back inside. He did not wish to cause Butturbur any more pain, and chose to keep silent when he was by him. Instead, Verence wept inside the inn while getting their provisions. When his eyes had dried, and he had gathered what he figured they would need, he came back outside to see Legolas and Aragorn by Barliman, comforting him as best they could. Verence came to the Elf.  
  
"A full water canteen and three days worth of nourishment for each of you," he said kindly, handing Legolas what he had gathered.  
  
Taking them, Legolas smiled at him gratefully. But his smile disappeared as soon as it had formed. It took too much effort to smile now.  
  
Seeing this, Aragorn turned to Butturbur once more. "Barliman, we must go. If they tread too far to quickly-"  
  
"I know...I understand," Barliman said, in almost a whisper. "Go swiftly."  
  
Legolas lowered his head, and he and Aragorn followed the tracks away from the Prancing Pony. They led East of the inn, toward the wooded area of Bree.  
  
After a while, dark clouds became visible in from the distance. A shadow was closing in over the land. But for the moment, the light of the full moon was enough to track the enemy at present. However, that's all they were following: tracks. Aragorn and Legolas had heard or seen no sign of the enemy at all, which means whoever was behind the slaughter of the hobbit was very swift, as well as large and strong. The two were becoming worried that if they were not fast enough to catch those responsible, what other harm could they do to the small, innocent town of Bree?  
  
With Anduril in hand and Legolas' bow strung, they continued on into the waning night. They lost track of time, and knew not how long they had been pursuing. The moonlight was now blocked by a thick, dark cloud that hovered over the land. It was becoming more and more difficult to see the tracks, and if one of them trailed off to the side, Aragorn would not be able to notice it.  
  
"I can not see the enemy's trail in this darkness. Can the eyes of an Elf do so?"  
  
"Nay, this shadow is not normal. It seems unnatural, like there is some evil afoot," Legolas replied.  
  
"Well that much is clear, taking in the murder of Nob."  
  
"No; something more than a single hobbit's death. Something imminent and nearing, but not quite clear as of yet."  
  
Aragorn looked at him curiously. "You believe in this foreboding?"  
  
"I trust my senses, and in this I have not been wrong before," Legolas said, staring off through the trees.  
  
"In that you have not," Aragorn replied, pondering deeply on his words about pending evil. "If there is some kind of approaching danger, we must make haste." He sighed. "The problem is that haste is not possible with the lack of light. We can not pursue the enemy in this pitch black. We are vulnerable."  
  
"Yes, but if they were to kill us and be rid of their threat, they would have done so already. They would have done so as soon as the moonlight was vanquished, which means they know not of our presence yet," Legolas said. "That at least can be reassuring."  
  
The two came behind a group of tall, thick trees and sat with their backs to them.  
  
"These seem thick enough to hide us for now, until the Sun shows herself at dawn," Aragorn said, placing his hand on the bark. Legolas looked at him, concerned.  
  
"Until dawn, you may want to get some rest, Aragorn. You are weary," Legolas insisted.  
  
"Do not worry about me. I am fine," he said, and reached for his water canteen. He took a small drink, and then set it by his side. Leaning back against the tree, he stared up at the branches, sorting through the day's events in his mind. Warm skin brushed against the back of his hand as Legolas leaned over and grasped it in one of his own.   
  
"You don't have to pretend around me, Aragorn," Legolas said softly as he brought the hand in his up to his cheek. He met the elf's green eyes, and something passed between them.   
  
"I know," he said just as softly, and leaning over, he took his friend's mouth with his own. It was a kiss born of the need for companionship as it was of desire, a means of forgetting the horrors of the day, an attempt of proving they were alive after seeing death. For a moment they were content as they were, lips pressed together.   
  
Legolas was the first to break the contact. Drawing back a few inches so their breaths mingled, he whispered, "Do you believe we'll be interrupted out here?"  
  
Aragorn grinned, "We are out hunting; wouldn't it be a good thing if they obliged us by appearing?"   
  
"Aragorn," Legolas started to say, but the hand he still held to his cheek slid back to tangle in the golden strands.   
  
"Enough talking, my friend." With that, Aragorn tugged gently to bring his face close to his and once again captured Legolas' mouth.   
  
It was filled with a fire that seared them both with its flame. Aragorn felt the elf's mouth open under his, and he slipped his tongue in to taste the sweet mouth. Opening his mouth further, Legolas made a low sound in the back of his throat.   
  
Rising slightly to a kneeling position, the Ranger slid his arm around the lithe body to draw him closer. The evidence of the other's desire pressed against his own, invoking a small groan from the taller man. With their lips still held in a kiss, Legolas reached between their bodies to unbuckle the  
leather belt around Aragorn's narrow waist. He managed to pull away long enough to tug the green tunic off, before he was again pulled back into another searing kiss.   
  
Tanned muscles rippled as Legolas ran his own pale hands over the smooth chest and arms, learning his lover's body. Aragorn groaned deeply this time, voicing his appreciation to the light caresses.   
  
A hand came around to begin tugging at his own belt, a muttered curse breathed into his open mouth as the catch caught. Legolas could only grin at the Ranger's unusual behavior.   
  
Aragorn, feeling the elf's smile against his lips, pulled back a few inches to study his face, "You find this amusing, my lord elf?"   
  
Legolas shook his head, wincing slightly when the hair still tangled around the hand was pulled by the movement. "Nay, my lord Dùnadan. Merely I have never seen you so uncomposed before."  
  
"And I do not have the same affect on you,then?"  
  
"I never said that." He pushed on Aragorn's bare chest, grinning when he sprawled out on the grass. Repeating the move from earlier that day, Legolas straddled him. He saw Aragorn's eyes widen at the contact, but that was the only sign he made. Leaning down to brace himself on his forearms, Legolas stared into the grey eyes darkened with fires of desire. And together, they burned. 


	4. The Chase Continues

Blanton Cirith + MarieAmethyst + an heir of Isildur & an awesome elf = Return To Bree  
  
Chapter 3~  
  
SideNote: thanks for all the support guys! I'm glad to see that there are others who share the idea of Leggo/Aggy ^_~  
  
Please R&R  
  
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Legolas looked up at his companion, sleeping with his head resting against the trunk of the tree. He smiled as Aragorn tossed his head. Looking to the sky, he could see the first light of dawn escaping over the mountains. Single rays of light began to illuminate the sky in a collage of purples and oranges, dancing across the clouds.  
  
He dressed and walked to the edge of the trees. There was a cliff overlooking the rest of the forest below them, and the glimmer of the sunset glowed on the treetops. He breathed in, savoring the crisp morning air.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw thin threads of smoke rising from a small clearing among the trees. Looking closer, he could slightly see two grey forms by a contained fire; they were orcs, much taller and massive than previous ones seen this far North. A third appeared with a bow and aimed it at Legolas far away on the precipice. The creature let go, and the arrow soared toward him. With a quick movement, Legolas caught the body of the arrow and jolted back from the force. He glared at the arrow he now held, and his eyes shot down to where the three figures had previously been to see they had vanished. He backed away from the cliff and dashed off in the direction he had come.  
  
He came to where he and Aragorn had been for the night, and Aragorn was sheathing Anduril.  
  
"What be the matter?" Aragorn asked, concerned at the dismay and hastiness of the Elf.  
  
Legolas stopped and looked at him. "This! This is the problem!" he held out the arrow in disgust. "They know we are following them."  
  
Aragorn's eyes widened. "You saw them? Who....What?"  
  
Legolas sighed. "They were far away, even for the eyes of an Elf. But from what I saw, they seem to be a sect of orcs. But, yet...not so. They reminded me of-" he stopped short and pondered for a moment. "No, I shall not say without certainty."  
  
Legolas looked deeply at the arrow, remembering back to his time with the Fellowship. How so he missed Gimli and the Hobbits, Gandalf, and...Boromir. The breaking of their companionship at Amon Hen was brought to mind, and he knew not why. This hunting; this desperate search for phantoms of the night. But these were no longer phantoms; for he had seen them, and they were indeed real.  
  
  
  
They began the chase once more, darting through the forest like a cool wind glides through the air and disappears. Aragorn by land, Legolas by tree, they pressed with just as much vigor and determination as the day before. Aragorn looked up as he hurried at a swift pace, and saw the shadowed form of his companion going from branch to branch, tree to tree. Sometimes he would stop on a higher branch and look out over the land, scouting for their prey.  
  
Aragorn stopped in his tracks as he looked up to see that his companion had halted. Legolas crouched below the threshold of the leaves and slowly parted them to see out. Aragorn looked on curiously, wondering what the Elf saw. He came back to reality when he felt a sharp point pushing against his back. There was a hushed whisper in his ear.  
  
"Dare thee not move..."  
  
The voice was deep and raspy, resembling that of an orc, but yet not so. Two additional creatures appeared from behind the trees, and bewilderment came over Aragorn when he realized who...what they were.  
  
'UH'....Uruk Hai....they survived....   
  
The larger came toward Aragorn, and seemed to be the leader of the three.  
  
"State your identity and purpose here," he growled.  
  
Aragorn slightly grinned to himself as he noticed Legolas hanging by a branch above the leader orc. He dropped and together he and the leader toppled to the ground. Aragorn, seizing the opportunity, turned and struck the Uruk behind him. The Ranger took the saber from his enemy's grasp, and kicked him to the ground. With one mighty blow, he slew the creature and swiftly moved to help his friend.  
  
The orc had Legolas beneath him, and the dagger was held back from the Elf's neck and they struggled for control over the dagger. But Legolas managed to deflect the Uruk's blade successfully, and Aragorn drove Anduril into this enemy's back. The lifeless form of the Uruk fell to the ground. Aragorn outstretched his hand, and Legolas took it. Once he was up, he looked around curiously.  
  
"Were there not three?" he inquired.  
  
Aragorn realized it as well. "It must have escaped." He hesitated. "But it is only one. We will find it."  
  
Just then, there came a many pounding of feet from the trees beyond, and deep yelling voices were heard. Neither dared to move.  
  
"Aragorn...I am no warrior, nor am I a Ranger. But I have experience enough with fighting to realize that we should be running."  
  
"Right!" Aragorn said, and they both shot around and started in the opposite direction.  
  
The enemy was in quick pursuit as the two ran for somewhere to hide, somewhere to get away. The Uruk-Hai: previous prey, now their predators. They had no time to wonder how they had survived the great fire or what they hoped to gain by their deeds. Their only instinct was to get away from the army behind them.  
  
Legolas saw a tall tree ahead of him; its higher branches shrouded by its leaves of red and gold. He leaped and grabbed hold of the lowest branch, swinging up and landing on a higher one. Aragorn halted below it and looked up as Legolas reached his arm down to him.  
  
"Hurry!"  
  
Aragorn wrinkled his brow. "Legolas, I am no Elf. We must keep going!"  
  
"No time! Take my hand!"  
  
Aragorn saw the Elf's eyes staring into his, and he felt a swarm of trust come over him. He grasped his hand, and Legolas pulled him upward to where he could reach. Aragorn grabbed the branch with his free hand and pulled himself up the rest of the way. They both rested with their backs against the bark and peered down. The leaves acted as a concealer, shrouding them from the Uruks view as they came running past the companions reside in a gust of fury. The enemy didn't seem to notice them from their high solace and continued past. 


	5. Revisiting Elder Thoughts

Return To Bree  
  
Chapter 5  
  
SideNote: sorry i have not updated in a millennia. Marie never got back to me for like 3 or 4 months (where are you Mar-chan?????) Anyway until she gets back, the lemon scene will have to wait.  
  
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Aragorn looked down from their stronghold in the treetop to see the last of the enemy rush past. With distress devouring his features, he turned to his companion. "Legolas... we cannot do this alone."  
  
The Elf seemed distraught and in deep thought. "I know," he whispered. "What do you suggest?"  
  
Aragorn thought a moment, and then spoke in a low tone. "Perhaps it would be best to return to the Prancing Pony. From there, we should go to Rohan." He gripped the branch above him tighter, afraid to lose his balance from this height. "King Eomer has had dealings with the Uruk Hai in the past, if you'll remember. He would be our best choice for assistance."  
  
Legolas nodded lightly, his mind obviously someplace else. He was thinking back to his time with the Fellowship, even though he had tried a thousand times over to forget. He remembered how everything had suddenly fallen apart that dreaded day; how his heart forever suffered after he heard the deep blare of the Horn of Gondor, the cry of the two Hobbits from a distance being carried off, the fear that crawled through his veins when he caught his first glimpse of Saruman's newest creations... It was all happening over again; only this time, Gimli was not there with him. Alas! How he missed that dwarf dearly. He missed Gimli's constant complaining, and the sound of his old friend's voice echoed through his mind as he recollected. Legolas looked up and saw it in the Rangers face; he was remembering as well. The same memories haunted them both still. But then again, their reminiscence would never fully be suppressed, and they both knew this. The memories would always dwell in their hearts and remind them whenever they came close to forgetting.  
  
"Come," Aragorn said, finally breaking the silence. He started his descent, and Legolas reluctantly came down after him.  
  
  
  
  
In Bree, Barliman was immersing the evening mugs in the basin behind the counter. The days business had been fairly well, and men and dwarves alike were collected in the Common Room. A few Hobbits were scattered here and there. In the past day or so there had been several bands of Dwarves as well as Men passing through, but only one or two groups would stay the night, apparently having heard the ordeal over the anonymous attack.  
  
He scrubbed the goblets one by one with a rag, now and then stopping to soak them in the washing basin.  
  
"Butturbur!" shouted one of the men from the other side of the room. Barliman looked up. "How about a second round?" He nodded and took three of the mugs he had just cleaned and filled them with ale. Setting them on a tray, he carried them over to the man's table.  
  
The door to the tavern opened suddenly and the two weary travelers entered.  
  
"Strider!" the Innkeeper cried and rushed over to him after setting down the tray. "What news have you for me? Of the good type, I hope?"  
  
Aragorn placed his hand on the hobbit's shoulder with a somber look. "Barliman...we found the assailants, but we need outside help. Tomorrow, we ride to Edoras for assistance." Butturbur's expression dissipated with every syllable the Ranger uttered. "Worry not," Aragorn said, seeing the disappointed look of the Innkeeper. "These brutes will be disposed of. Their justice will be distributed accordingly."  
  
Barliman managed a smile, though it was only for the sake of Aragorn. The Ranger spoke once more. "We'll stay in the same room as before for the night, if it is not already taken."  
  
"No, it is available," he said somberly, and scribbled something down on a piece of paper.  
  
The two passed him and headed up to their quarters for the night. Coming to the door at the end of the upper hall, Aragorn reached for the handle but realized the door had been left half-open from when they had dashed off before. They both entered and Legolas shut it behind them.  
  
"I'm so tired I could sleep for a week," the elf exclaimed with a sigh. He pulled his tunic caked with dirt over his head and laid on the bed with his face to the wall, exhausted.  
  
Aragorn trembled slightly. Ever since the previous night, they had not spoken of their time together. Seeing Legolas like this again left him yearning for his touch. Being here again filled him with reminiscence of the night Nob was killed. Elf and Man had resided here, kissing to their hearts' desires. Aragorn looked over to his companion who lay contently atop the sheets. He opened his mouth to say something, but Legolas had already beaten him to it.  
  
"Aragorn," the Elf said quietly. "Do you remember two nights ago when we were here?"  
  
Aragorn didn't need to be reminded; he had already been thinking about it. "Yes, I do."  
  
"We started something that we did not finish," the Elf continued.  
  
Aragorn looked confused. "We did. Have you forgotten lastnight's endeavors?" He could still taste the Elf's sweet lips against his as clearly as the night before.  
  
Legolas turned to face him and smiled. "Of course not." he sighed slightly, as if pondering something that had long since been on his mind. "But it was different somehow... I'd wish to finish what we began here."  
  
Aragorn was surprised at the hastiness of the elf. Surprised, yes; but not disappointed. He had regretted them having to leave before. That shrill cry two days before had thrown his mind off course completely. In a way, he was not surprised at the way he himself felt, expecting that eventually the emotions would return to him. This room filled him with such nostalgia and longing for a night past. Even if it had been but two nights ago, it felt like forever since the Ranger felt Legolas' gentle touch in this solemn room.  
  
Aragorn smiled tenderly. He came and sat by Legolas on the bed with his arms wrapped around his knees. The Elf sat up and looked at him with a faint sorrow in his eyes. "I had wondered if what we had was to be thrown in the fire; never to be spoken of again."  
  
"This thought troubled you?" the other asked, worried that perhaps their love might actually carry through. Although, the worry was only for the sake of the Elf; that perhaps his Father, King of Mirkwood, had already arranged a pairing for the elven prince.  
  
Legolas seemed distraught. "Very much so... I had hoped you felt the same for me as I feel for you."  
  
Aragorn smiled and grasped the Elf's hand in his, their fingers twisting together. With the other, he stroked Legolas' hair. The blond and light silver locks felt smooth against his finger tips, as they always had. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against the Elf's neck, his soft, pale skin tasting just as sweet as he remembered.  
  
  
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End file.
